


Council of Nations

by Golbez



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: F/M, Humanized Countries, Mist gets a mention though, Mood Whiplash, The Author Regrets Nothing, this was supposed to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golbez/pseuds/Golbez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Humanized kingdoms and towns. After the Crystal War, Baron faces the consequences. And Mysidia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Council of Nations

**Author's Note:**

> BARON/MYSIDIA AND FABUL/DAMCYAN OTP I REGRET NOTHING

"You allowed yourself to be controlled by an outsider." Fabul's tone is calm, but the accusation is present. Damcyan, seated to his left, winces.

"I had no choice," protests Baron, scowling at the Monk from across the table. It's not a trial, not officially, but it certainly feels like one. "And there were many factors in my...wayward actions. You'd all do well to remember that."

"You didn't even notice your King was dead!" snaps Damcyan, venom lacing his tone. The old desert kingdom is bitter, but not vengeful. No, that honor went to the kingdom seated on Fabul's right.

"Let's just stop with the formalities and get it on," drawls Eblan, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair before propping his feet up. "I think we all know what we really want here is Baron on his knees."

Silence falls over the four present. Baron seethes. Damcyan averts his gaze. Fabul inhales sharply, then reaches over to shove Eblan's feet off the table, sending him falling off his chair with a curse.

Fabul clears his throat as the Ninja picks himself back up. "As I was saying. You allowed an outside force to take over, and unquestioningly carried out every task given to you. Including the razing and bombing of several other nations."

"Well," says Baron, still glaring at Eblan, "I have a different King now."

"He's not even human," mumbles Eblan, sitting back down.

"He is a good king, and he's not going to bring us to war once more. Need I remind you that your own new kings all traveled with and befriended mine?"

"It doesn't work that way," hisses Eblan.

Baron doesn't react to him, staring directly at Fabul.

"You are a young kingdom still," says Damcyan, gaze downcast.

"Eight hundred years is -"

"Young," says Fabul firmly. "And you would do well to remember that yours is a history whose foundation lies upon war. There have been far too few ages of peace in your lifetime, Baron."

Baron has nothing to say to them after that, sitting back in his own chair, trying not to slump in disappointment. So far, the odds are against him, and he's not likely to get out of this without a fight breaking out.

Eblan opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by the slamming of a door somewhere.

"Ah, she's here." Damcyan voices what they're all thinking, and Baron looks to them, his look as pleading as he can muster without putting too much of his pride on the line in exchange. 

"Well!" says Eblan, standing quickly, "I better get going! Gotta go see the King, you know!"

He grins, eyes gleaming with malicious glee, before he jumps onto the table and leaps away, flipping and disappearing into the rafters above.

"Just when he finally calmed down, his new king is..." mumbles Fabul as he, too, rises to his feet. "In any case, I do believe we are through here. We too have to meet with our Kings. We shall see you again, Baron." Next to him, Damcyan mirrors the motion, albeit much more slowly, his injuries still hindering him from moving with his famous grace.

"You can't leave me to face her wrath on my own...!" The desperation in Baron's tone is evident, and he's on his feet next, reaching out to grab at any one of them. Anything to keep them here -

_"Kingdom of Baron!"_

Baron flinches, giving Fabul and Damcyan the opening they need to flee. Both bow before they exit, though Damcyan takes a moment to give Baron a slight smile followed by an all too cheerful "Good luck!"

Troia slams the door open next, flying into the room just as Baron dives under the table. 

"There's no use hiding," says Troia, and Baron watches her feet as she stalks around the room, the clanking of her armor echoing in his mind. A moment later though, and she's joined by another, one dressed in long flowing robes that trailed upon the ground.

"Mysidia and I both would like to have a word with you. It's a pity Mist could not be here, but alas, the poor dear is recovering."

Baron wants nothing more than to rise to his feet and go to them and whisper his apologies, whisper to them how sorry he is. Sorry for causing the war, sorry for hurting you, Mysidia. Sorry for being weak.

He doesn't, because he has his pride (Fabul would snort) and his honor (cast aside the moment he made war).

More silence, and Baron senses it, that silent transfer of knowledge, of knowing, as Mysidia says something to Troia with her mind. Troia grumbles aloud.

"Very well then, I shall leave him to you," says Troia, and he watches her feet turn to the door. She stops, then says loudly, "I'll be right outside, Mysidia, but should he try anything...I'll know."

The door opens, then slams shut as she exits. Baron hesitates, though Mysidia has made no effort to speak to him yet.

He can't take it any longer, so he crawls out from under the table.

Her foot makes contact with his head before he can get up, pressing him down to the ground.

 _You stole my crystal._ Her voice cuts through his thoughts, sharp like a knife, so all he knows is her rage towards him.

"I - I did." He would not have admitted to his fault so readily had it been Damcyan or Eblan, but with Mysidia, he finds that he cannot hide it.

_You dared to tear down an ancient balance!_

Any protests he might have had die in his throat, as he realizes none of them would work on her. He can deny his guilt all he likes, can blame his actions on the Lunarians and their ilk, can claim ignorance to the truth as it were, but none of them will work on her.

"...I'm sorry," he mumbles against the floor. The pressure against his head lifts, as does the rage in his mind, and he can just barely sense her moving to the side.

_Get up._

He does as she commands, though he moves slowly, his limbs sluggish and slow. When the fog over his mind clears, Baron is standing tall once more, and Mysidia is there, dressed in the black of mourning, her gaze meeting his.

She's not like he remembers. Her face still lacks the fullness of health, and flames of death dance in her eyes, so unlike the passion for learning he once saw in them. No, he sees none of that passion that brought them to build the Serpent Road brick by brick together all those years ago, so that they might more easily visit each other.

"...I was weak," he admits.

Mysidia doesn't blink, simply gazing at him some more. He remembers her birth, that gasp for breath that had escaped her lips, the way she smiled as they entered alliance. That was, of course, before she gave away her voice, handing it down to her people so they might use it in her stead.

She doesn't say anything. Baron sighs. "...I want to be forgiven," he says at last. "I'm sorry about all of this. I want to repair the damage I have done to our world, and I cannot do that alone."

For a moment, he fears that she'll be as stubborn as the others, that she'll reject him once more and let his heartfelt efforts go to waste. It's a tense moment, then Mysidia smiles that ancient smile, and Baron lets out a breath he had not realized he'd been holding.

"Thank you," he says.

Mysidia doesn't stop smiling, even as she whacks him across the face with the staff suddenly in her hands.

 _Now,_ she tells him, laughter mixing with the pain in his head, _I forgive you._

Baron groans, but he's smiling back at her as he nurses the forming bruise on his cheek.

 _I promise I'll make it better,_ he thinks.

He doesn't know if she heard him, but the way she takes his hand in hers is enough.


End file.
